


Growing Pains

by CookieCrumbz545



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A little fluffy, Becoming The Mando We Love, Growing Pains, One Shot Collection, Young Din Djarin, Young Mandalorian, a little angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCrumbz545/pseuds/CookieCrumbz545
Summary: A series of one-shots following a young Din Djarin in his early years as a full-fledged Mandalorian. (Harmless fluff, tasteful angst; enjoy.)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young pledge seeks reassurance from an older Mandalorian. Will Din, once a foundling himself, ever be called to the role of mentor?

Din pushed his helmet off with shaking hands as soon as he was out of sight. Sometimes, when things got overwhelming, he would duck into one of the side tunnels for some air, overcome by the need to feel something, anything against his skin. When he was struggling with a new hand-to-hand maneuver, or had a conflict with another covert member, sometimes he needed to rest his face in his hands, or comb his fingers through his hair; sometimes he needed to remind himself that he still had a face beneath his helmet. He knew he’d have to pare back the habit, eventually, but he would save that practice in restraint for another day.

  
His reality check was cut short as he heard voices around the corner, and he shoved his helmet back over his head frantically, turning to walk further down the tunnel. He didn’t get far before he had to stop again. He wasn’t the only one seeking a quiet space away from the common areas: another Mandalorian stood against the wall of the tunnel, watching a rather small foundling as he played in the manner which very little children do. Neither took notice of Din, at first.

  
The foundling toddled with the movement of one whose legs had just learned to walk, waddling at a surprising pace toward his mentor. The Mandalorian, named Karam, whom Din recognized by her maroon-accented Beskar, dropped to one knee, opening her arms to the child. He lurched to a stop, gurgling with apparent joy as Karam scooped him into her arms, lifting him with her as she stood. She stroked the back of an ungloved hand against the little boy’s cheek, speaking softly to him, and Din felt a strange pressure in his chest as the foundling smiled widely, giggling at the woman’s touch. He wondered if a similar smile lay on the other side of the red helmet.

  
The child let his head fall against the Mandalorian’s shoulder, and her hand rested lightly on his back. She nodded at Din in greeting, who approached, trying to hide the hesitance in his stride.

  
“Good morning.”

  
“Good morning,” he echoed. 

  
“I hear you’ve gained permission to go to the surface next week.” She swayed slightly as she spoke, twisting from side to side in a motion that gently rocked the small child in her arms.

  
Din nodded once, unsure of what to say.

  
“That’s wonderful. I wish you luck.”

  
“Thank you.”

  
The little boy began to fuss, saving Din from having to grasp for something else to say as she lowered the child to the ground. He began to waddle away, but didn’t stray far from his mentor, moving to sit against the wall of the tunnel. Karam turned her attention back to her peer.

  
“You have a question for me.”

  
Din’s gaze shifted from the foundling to the Mandalorian with a start. “Yes,” he found himself affirming. “I do.”

  
“Please, ask. I will answer as best I can.” 

  
He was a bit taken aback by the way she spoke to him: like he was her equal, despite the undeniable seniority she held over him. Everyone in the covert knew he was among the newest pledges, even if they hadn’t known of him back when he was still training. After becoming used to others in the covert talking down to him, Din felt an unfamiliar reassurance in the way Karam conversed with him, as if he too was a grown, seasoned warrior.

  
Now, he just had to prove his competence by finding the right words to ask her about what was on his mind.

  
“Is it...right, to be so affectionate with one’s foundling?”

  
There was a certain intonation that broke through her voice modulator as she replied, and Din hoped she wasn’t laughing at him; or worse, offended.

  
“Every young one needs tenderness, just as they need discipline.” 

  
He’d misinterpreted. It wasn’t amusement nor irritation, but something simpler, softer. Din wasn’t sure.

  
“Were you not held, as a child? Nursed when you were hungry and comforted when you cried? Was not every Mandalorian?”

  
Din found himself distracted by a memory of the day his mentor rescued him--the sensation of relief and security he experienced as he was lifted from his hiding place and held firmly by armor-clad arms, amidst a swarm of chaos. When he didn’t answer, the woman continued.

  
“Foundlings thrive under those who are both compassionate and steadfast, and it is our duty to help them thrive. This is the Way.”

  
“This is the Way,” Din murmured in reply. The older Mandalorian was silent, but didn’t turn to walk away. Perhaps she could perceive the additional question Din was trying to articulate in his head.

  
“Do you think--” he hesitated. He hated how uncertain he sounded. It was difficult for him to forget how recently he had sworn to the Creed. How new and strange the weight of Beskar felt on his shoulders, despite the fact that he'd worn it every day for over a year now.

  
Karam still stood patiently, and he reworded his question. “Do all Mandalorians train foundlings, eventually?”

  
“Certainly not all will bring foundlings into the covert,” she explained. “Not everyone is suited to the role of mentoring. But, if and when they are ready…" She turned, gesturing toward the small boy, who was now occupied with an interestingly-shaped rock, with a nod of her helmet. "Young ones have a habit of finding their way into our lives." 

  
She turned back to face the young Mandalorian. "Why do you think we call them foundlings, Din?"


End file.
